When I opened up our online calendar this week and found the theme set as Bah
Humbug, I must admit I felt a little saddened.
I know who this miser is. I know he will have relished the
idea of making me, Mr Christmas (who has somehow been roped into a Santa role
on Christmas Day) write something anti festive but I’m not going to do it.
Today opened on a negative. I had the humbug news, got to
work (late) in the rain and promptly got the news a paper round needed covering.
I’d no sooner started tutting at the headline “2000 ten year olds arrested”,
which I would say excessive and mostly if not completely avoidable, when the
hailstone came. This was not a great start to the day.
From nowhere, something changed. As I re-entered the shop a
familiar tune rang out from the counter. Bells. A tin whistle. A credible Irish
singer. That’s right readers, the Pogues were playing out- shamelessly
spreading the Christmas spirit. For a while it didn’t matter that the Israelis
were tearing up strips of Jerusalem, for a while it didn’t matter that England’s
own green hills were being divided amongst the coalition’s various business
associates. For three minutes Margaret Thatcher could have walked in there, iron
lung on a trolley behind, and I’d have tried to do a bit of a jig.
I’m sorry Ash. The theme this week is Bah Humbug but with the tree up, the twinkling fairy lights and the film fest I’ve already started (4 and counting), you’ve got no chance. Instead, have a Christmas ditty.
I’m sorry Ash. The theme this week is Bah Humbug but with the tree up, the twinkling fairy lights and the film fest I’ve already started (4 and counting), you’ve got no chance. Instead, have a Christmas ditty.
Christmas Chores.
This
Christmas, I'm dressing as Santa
I've been
tied in, with no escape clause
I was told
of the task by the other
She who must
be obeyed, her indoors.
So I'll Ho
Ho Ho in with a beard on
Spreading
joy with the goods in my sack
I'm planning
on not being rumbled
For I'd
never hear the end of that.
So itchy or
not I'll be wearing that suit
with a
cushion for stuffing, polished black boots
the family
are in, we're all playing cahoots
convincing
me it's for the children.
Thanks for reading, Shaun.